Date: Sat, 6 Jul 2019 00:21:14 +0200
From: gay slave <naked.gay.slave@mail.com>
Subject: Whitey Tighties 4

Sorry for the delay in Chapter 4, everyone. this slave has unfortunately
been quite busy in it's non-slave daily life and hasn't had time to write
for you all. it hopes to be able to serve you more stories at regular
intervals in the future...

From the third chapter:

I followed my Master, and thought about my situation. It wasn't just me and
my Master any more. People in my life would know I wanted to be a naked pig
slave. I was scared of what people would think. But I also felt a little
relief. Part of me had been hidden for so long, even after I had come
out. I didn't really have plans for what I would do after high
school. Maybe I could be my Master's slave forever. Maybe it wouldn't
matter if everyone knew what I was. I could be a slave, just like I want.

-----

We stopped by the barn to pick up a shovel and a machete, as well as a
canteen of water. Master handed them to me to carry, and indicated to
follow him back out to the fields. I followed my Master past the field I
had worked in the morning into the woods. We walked on an overgrown trail,
shaded by the trees. I was glad to be in the shade; despite the sunscreen,
I could feel a light sunburn starting. However, my naked body was now
exposed to all manner of branches, ivies, and thorns. After walking for a
while, we stopped by a large rock. My Master stopped.

"Your afternoon task is to clear the trail we just walked on," he
explained. "If you make it back before sundown, you'll earn a pair of your
underwear back. And then you'll serve Master Clark and me this evening." He
walked away, leaving me to my work.

I slowly worked by way back toward the trailhead, clearing branches and
cutting plants that had grown over the trail. The summer air had thickened
and, being in the woods, there wasn't much of a crossbreeze. Less than an
hour in, I was covered in sweat and had drunk the canteen of water. I knew
there was nothing else to do but continue working, so I persevered. A short
while later, I heard someone approaching. It was Master Clark, now wearing
an open button-up shirt in addition to his jeans and boots.

"You look sweaty and tired, boy. Do you need a refill of your water?" He
asked.

"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir," I responded, handing him the canteen.

He grabbed it and told me to get back to work while he fetched me a
drink. I couldn't help but notice a slight smirk in his smile as he turned
to walk away. I continued clearing the trail, my naked body exposed to the
thorns and sticks that grew around. I looked down at my body. I noticed my
muscles were protruding more and it looked like I had almost no fat around
my mid-section. A faint outline of abs could be seen glistening with
sweat. My body had started reddening from my morning sun exposure.

"Here's a nice fresh drink for you, boy," I heard Master Clark state as he
walked back up. I reached out to grab the canteen, but he pulled it
away. "You'll have to earn it. It seems like I've stepped in some mud on my
trek here. Clean off my boots, slave boy."

I set down my tools and crouched down, moving my hand toward his boots. He
kicked my hand away.

"Use your tongue, boy. And be thorough." He commanded. I stuck out my
tongue and started licking the tops of his boots, which were covered in a
light coating of dirt. The taste wasn't bad, but the grainy texture and
dryness quickly filled my mouth. The wetter mud on the bottom of his boots
provided a little relief from the dryness, but the grainiess of the mud was
still unpleasant. I finished cleaning Master Clark's boots and sat back on
my heels, kneeling below him as I awaited my canteen.

"Good job, boy," Master Clark commended, "Now here's your canteen. Feel
free to fill it up yourself if you empty it again."

He smiled as I untwisted the cap and started drinking. The warm stench of
piss hit the back of my throat, surprising me. I quickly acclimated and
continued drinking, going through about half of the canteen before
realizing that Master Clark was still there.

"You sure are a little gay pig boy, Callum. You're lucky your Master found
you. It seems like this is the perfect lifestyle for you," he stated. I
nodded in agreement as he walked away. "Get back to work, boy," he ordered,
"you only have a couple hours before sundown."

I continued clearing the trail, noticing new scratches and scrapes every
time I looked down at my body. After what seemed like an hour since Master
Clark left me, I finished the canteen. I could barely see the end of the
trail up ahead but I knew I needed more to drink before I continued
working. I lowered the mouth of the canteen to my soft two-inch cock and
began filling it up with my own piss. I knew that my piss would be more
rank than Master Clark's, as I was slightly dehydrated after my day of
work, but I needed to drink.

The sky began to turn golden as I reached the trailhead. My skin was still
red and I was covered in scratches, and my body ached all over from the day
of hard work. Despite that, I was excited to serve my Masters tonight. My
cock hardened to its full four inches as I walked back to the house. My
Master, whose name I still didn't know, and Master Clark were sitting in
lounge chairs, both wearing cut off jeans and open button-up shirts. They
were drinking beer, and by the looks of the bottles scattered around, they
had already gone through a fair amount. I set down the tools by the barn
and walked over to my Masters.

"You've finished just a few minutes before sundown, boy," my Master
stated. "Good job. Now it's time for your reward." He motioned for me to
come over. "Get on your hands and knees in front of us, boy," he commanded,
"you'll serve as our footstool as we finish our beers. Don't worry; we have
something for you to drink too."

I crouched down in front of them as they put their feet up on my sunburned
and scratched back. A bottle was held to my mouth for me to drink. As I
expected, it contained piss. I drank as much as I could before the bottle
was removed. My Masters began chatting about sports, ignoring me except to
give me a drink from the piss bottle every so often. Suddenly, I felt a
finger enter my asshole. I had been covered in lube, but it was still
shocking. I gasped.

"Don't squirm too much, boy. You have to keep our feet up," Master Clark
said. My Master continued to finger me as he and Master Clark finished
their beers. By my count of the bottles on the ground, they had almost gone
through a twelve-pack by now. My Master removed his finger from my ass and
I felt something hard press against my hole. I quickly realized it was a
beer bottle, with some liquid still in it.

"Since you seem to like drinking piss so much, boy, I think we'll reserve
your mouth for piss and cum. You can drink this beer through your ass," my
Master said.

"Bottoms up," Master Clark chuckled, as he fed me the last of the piss in
the bottle. I felt the beer, warm from sitting outside, enter my ass. It
slowly flowed in from the bottle, filling me up. As soon as it was empty,
my Master removed the bottle and quickly replaced it with a butt plug.

"We don't want you to waste any of our beer, boy," he said as he tapped the
plug firmly into my ass. "Now clean up our beer bottles before we take this
party into the barn," he commanded. Staying on all fours and trying to keep
the beer from pushing the plug out of my ass, I crawled around, collecting
the beer bottles with my mouth. I returned them one-by-one to a bucket next
to my Master. As I was collecting the bottles, Master Clark got up and
headed over to the barn. I could hear some sounds of metal chains in the
barn, and my small cock hardened wondering what was in store for me. After
I collected all the bottles, I returned to sit next to my Master, who
reached in a bag next to him and pulled out a leash and collar. He put the
collar around my neck and stood up, pulling on the leash. I followed, still
on all fours, as he led me to the barn.

The barn was fairly dark inside, with some electric lanterns scattered
around. My Master led me to the stall by the pile of hay where I had slept
the night before. Master Clark was standing in the stall next to a sling he
had set up. He took the leash from my Master and pulled me up so I was
standing. He grabbed me by the collar and pulled me into the sling. He
grabbed my legs and pulled the up, attaching shackles to my ankles and then
securing them to the chains that held up the sling.

Suddenly, I felt something enter my mouth. It was the soiled pair of whitey
tighties from the night before. My Master pushed the crotch part of them to
the back of my mouth, then pulled my head through the leg holes so the
underwear were secured around my neck. He then shackled my wrists and
attached them to the chains that held up the sling. Master Clark returned
with an empty bucket, which he placed below my ass. He began twisting the
butt plug around, working it out of my asshole. As it popped out, some beer
and ass juices splashed into the bucket. He chuckled as unzipped his pants
and stuck his hard, seven-inch cock into my gaping hole.

I moaned into the soiled underwear as Master Clark pushed his cock into my
ass all the way to the base. He held it there, and I felt a warmth inside
me. Master Clark was pissing in my ass. He continued pissing, smirking as
he noticed my cock throbbing. After he finished, he removed his cock,
letting his piss leak out into the bucket and join the beer. My Master then
moved around to my ass and did the same thing. After he finished and his
piss had spilled into the bucket, my Master moved it to the side. He then
grabbed my thighs and pulled my ass all the way down on his cock. I gasped
and moaned as he fucked my ass, letting the sling swing me up and down on
his big hard cock. As my Master fucked me, Master Clark played with my
sensitive nipples. "You're one sexy slave, boy," Master Clark said," I
can't wait to fuck your little ass.

I felt my Master remove his cock from my ass, and Master Clark quickly
replaced him. His cock was slightly smaller, but it was curved in a way
that perfectly hit my prostate. I was in heaven. Master Clark continued to
play with my nipples as he fucked me, and I moaned in ecstasy. I only
noticed that my Master had left when he returned, holding a clean pair of
my tighty whiteys. He set them on the side of the stall, as if showing me
what my reward would be for serving him and Master Clark so well. Master
Clark, still fucking me, sped up and began grunting hard.

"I'm gonna cum in your ass, you little pig boy. Take the seed of a real
man," he screamed as his cock erupted in my ass. I continued to moan as he
fucked his cum deeper in my ass, rubbing up against my prostate. Before I
knew what was happening, I felt my little cock erupt with cum, spraying up
my chest to my face. As I lay in the sling recovering from my intense
orgasm, I felt my Master move back between my legs. I was tired from the
orgasm and my long day of work, and I had no strength to fight as he
entered my stretched out asshole. Fresh off my orgasm, my ass was intensely
sensitive to every single thrust from my Master. I moaned and groaned and
squirmed in the sling as he increased the speed of his thrusts. Even if I
wanted to get out, I was chained into the sling.

After a few minutes, my Master's breathing quickened and I felt his cock
throb in my sensitive ass. He started cumming in my ass, then he pulled out
and jerked the rest of his cum onto my chest and face. After I felt the
last few drops of cum hit my chest, I looked up toward my Master. He and
Master Clark were standing, naked, their muscled bodies apparent in the
flickering light of the lanterns.

"I'm proud of you, boy," my Master began, "You've served us well tonight. I
think you've more than earned the two pairs of whitey tighties I promised
you." He walked over to the pair he had placed on the side of the stall and
grabbed them. He unshackled my ankles one by one but left me in the
sling. Grabbing my feet, he slowly put the clean pair of whitey tighties on
my body, making sure they fit right around my round ass and cradled my
spent balls. Master Clark walked around, as if to free my wrists from the
shackles on them, but he grabbed the bucket of beer and piss instead.

"Like your Master said, you've served us well tonight, boy," he
said. "Let's get you cleaned up," he smirked, as he poured the bucket of
beer and piss on my cum-covered chest and over my face. I coughed as it
entered my mouth, soaking the pair of whitey tighties that were still
gagging me. As he poured, Master Clark moved the bucket along my entire
torso, making sure to soak me from my new pair of whitey tighties around my
cock and ass all the way to my hair. After emptying the bucket, Master
Clark stepped back to admire his work. A flash and the click of a camera
notified me that my Master had taken another picture to archive my
servitude. He asked Master Clark to unchain me and bring me out to the back
yard.

Master Clark unchained the shackles around my wrists from the chains but
did not take them off. He lifted me out of the sling and lowered me to the
ground, where I kneeled in front of him. He pulled my wrists behind my back
and locked the two shackles together. Pulling me up by the collar, Master
Clark led me out of the barn and into the moonlit back yard. My Master was
waiting for me there.

"You've done well over the past day, boy," he said, "but unfortunately it's
time for you to go home. Master Clark and I have had too much to drink, and
we can't drive you. Hopefully you can find your way back on foot without
getting caught. It's just over three miles back to your house. Once you
walk up the driveway, turn left onto the farm road and continue until you
hit a T. Take the right road, across the dry creekbed, and it runs by the
woods behind your house after a few miles. You should be able to avoid
being seen, as most of the traffic stays on the highway. I've left a
present for you once you get back to your place."

As my Master led me by my collar up his driveway, Master Clark shouted,
"Enjoy your walk home, you little slave boy. I'll see you soon."

We reached the top of the driveway, and my Master let go of my collar. He
turned to me and pulled the whitey tighties out of my mouth, allowing me to
speak. He stated, "you have another choice to make, boy.

"If you give me back these two pairs of underwear, I'll take off your wrist
restraints and your collar. You can then walk home naked. If you choose
that option, I'll stop by your house tomorrow with the rest of your whitey
tighties. You can have them back, but you'll never serve me or Master Clark
again.

"If you walk home in the collar and wrist restraints, you can keep the two
pairs of underwear you've earned back and remain in the slave training
program. I'll send you instructions during the rest of your week, and
you'll serve me, Master Clark, and a few of my friends this next weekend at
a party I'm throwing. Time to choose."

Without hesitation, I responded, "this slave boy wishes to continue serving
you, Sir. it will walk home in the collar and shackles, Sir. it will follow
all of your instructions, Sir. and it will serve you and your friends as
you wish, Sir."

"Good boy," he responded, patting my head like a dog and putting the whitey
tighties back in my mouth. "Before you go, let me give you one more gift,"
he said, as he pulled his shorts down. As he began pissing on me, aiming at
my small cock inside the whitey tighties, I kneeled down and let him soak
me. His piss added to the dried piss, beer and cum from earlier, and I was
proud to be covered in my Master's piss and cum. He finished pissing and
put his cock back in his shorts. "You better get going, boy," he said, "if
you don't want to get back too late." He walked back down his driveway,
leaving me by the side of the road, collared with my wrists shackled behind
my back, covered in piss and wearing only piss and beer-soaked whitey
tighties.

My cock hardened as I thought about my situation, and I began walking. It
was quiet and the air was still. The moon illuminated the road well enough
that I could see where I was going, and there were no vehicles on the
road. I approached the T my Master mentioned and turned right. As I walked
through the dry creekbed, I heard some metallic rattling and the sound of a
truck engine. I ran off the road as quickly as I could and hid behind some
brush. I saw a pickup truck drive past. I wasn't my Master's but it looked
familiar. After I was sure the truck had passed, I continued on my way.

My whole body ached as I approached to the woods behind my house. In the
moonlight, I could see the remains of the underwear I had destroyed the
night before. I debated trying to collect them so I could dispose of them
properly rather than letting them lay out on the side of the road, but my
hands were still restrained behind my back. I wondered how I could ever get
my hands free, even once I got home. I walked through the woods, careful to
avoid tripping, and came up to the back of my house. As I approached the
back porch, I noticed a pair of whitey tighties sitting nicely in front of
the door. My Master had presumably dropped them off while I was working on
the trail. Sitting on top of the pair of whitey tighties was a key, which I
presumed was for the shackles. I squatted down to grab it, fumbling for
about five minutes trying to unlock the lock. Finally, I was able to unhook
the shackles from each other.

I grabbed the clean pair of whitey tighties and noticed that they had been
marked. Handwritten in black sharpie around the waistband was "these WHITEY
TIGHTIES and the SLAVE BOY in them belong to MASTER TAYLOR." I smiled,
finally knowing my Master's name. I collected my keys and phone, and
unlocked the back door, turning the knob and entering the house.

As I stepped into the kitched, the lights turned on. Still collared with
the wrist shackles on, stinking of piss and beer and wearing just my piss
and beer-soaked whitey tighties, I looked, turning beet red, at my
step-father, who was sitting at the table.

"Welcome home, Callum," he said. "I've been waiting for you."

-----

Thank you for reading chapter 4. this slave hopes to provide more in this
series soon.

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